


bring your alibis

by seriousjizz



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-08
Updated: 2015-06-08
Packaged: 2018-04-03 10:34:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4097725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seriousjizz/pseuds/seriousjizz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>the case of missing persons off of california interstate. scully and mulder investigate only to realize they are stuck in an Eagles song.</p>
            </blockquote>





	bring your alibis

**Author's Note:**

> pssst sex starts way at the end so if thats what youre here for scroll scroll scroll

“Hey Scully, what would you say to a nice, relaxing trip to California?”

“I can’t remember the last time I was promised a relaxing vacation, Mulder.”

Scully replied, glancing up from the files in her lap. Mulder had his sharp nose buried in files, and turned to stare at her with a smirk.

“You know, I can imagine you very clearly with a Margherita in hand. Salt around the rim and everything.” Mulder immediately shifted, rolling closer to Scully in his chair.

“Oh, I can’t stand Tequila. Why, Mulder? Where are you going with this?

“Look at this…four disappearances from Southern California. All off of State Route 74 and all men ages 25-40.”  His fingers traced the highway across the Palm Desert.

He peered up at her as if he had already convinced her of something. Scully raised a brow, lost at to what was implying.

“Mulder, this doesn’t look like anything we’d be interested in at all.”

“All the cars were found abandoned and their gas tanks bone dry, like they’d been syphoned. No signs of damage to the vehicle and always in the middle of nowhere.”

“Sounds like you’re run-of-the-mill kidnapping. I just don’t see the value in our investigation.” Scully folded her hands across her lap, curious about what Mulder could possibly be seeing in this.

Mulder sighed and crinkled the map up.

“People have been seeing lights off that road,” He completed the thought.

Scully smiled, taking the map from Mulder and refolding the map properly. “Ah, you’re thinking abductions.”

Mulder put a finger on the point of his nose, “you guessed it.”

Scully thought briefly on a pool-side beer with the sun on her face. She would never get a minute off, but hell, it was a nice fantasy.

“Okay, Mulder. If you think it’s something. But, you can drink the Margherita. I’ll just take the beer you’re gonna buy me.” She smiled and placed the map in his hands, already making a mental note to remember her sunglasses.

“I’ll only buy you the beer if you put the sun screen on my back. I burn like bacon.”

Scully breathed out heavily, in the way Mulder knew she couldn’t quite cover her laugh as well as she hoped.

“Well, I guess I’ll go pack it then. Bye, Mulder.”

Mulder turned to his computer as Scully got up to leave, carful not to watch her go.

“See you in Cali, baby.” He called as her heels clicked away.

* * *

“Mulder, we’ve gone to every single victim’s homes. No correlation besides young males. I’m lost.” Scully was pouring over the files, desperately holding on to them as the cool wind of the desert poured in from the car windows.

They had been driving up and down this highway for the past two days, but at night it had entirely eerie quality.

Scully turned off her flashlight, leaning her head against the car seat.  She turned to the window, seeing the moon frozen overhead, lighting up the sand and desert plants.

“I know, but we must be missing something. We just need to reassess. Can we call that state trooper? He was the one who reported the strange lights from last week. What’s his name… Frey?”

“Felder. Yeah, we can. I’m just not getting any signal here.”

“Here try my phone.” Mulder reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone when the radio started.

Both of them jumped. The radio volume dial started to spin wildly, the volume growing louder and louder. Scully grabbed franticly, spinning it as far down as she could.

“It’s not working. What’s wrong with it??” She yelled over the music, but Mulder wasn’t paying attention to that anymore. His eyes were wide, fixed on the open road.

The radio fizzled out quietly, resting at a quiet volume. Scully recognized the song from some time in the late seventies…pouring out of her brother’s room at 2 a.m. But, all she could think about was the look on Mulder’s face.

“What, Mulder? What did you see?”

“I…I saw lights.” Mulder’s voice dripped out sleepily, his eyes lazily starting to shut. Scully grabbed at the wheel, pulling them over.

“Mulder, wake up! Are you okay?” She brushed the hair out of his face. His hair stuck gently to his forehead and his jaw went slack with sleep.

He started gently snoring, while Scully scrambled to check his vitals, just in case. He seemed healthy, if not exhausted.

“Mulder, wake up!” She yelled, keeping her tone as calm as she could. 

The radio had continued to play, much gentler now. Mulder’s eyes flickered open, “Sorry, I just got very tired.” His tongue was heavy in his mouth, and his eyes fluttered shut once more. He groaned sleepily, “how bout we find a hotel? I need to crash.” Mulder curled up in his seat, his breathing slowing once again.

Scully would have laughed at the man curled up, almost sucking his thumb next to her if she hadn’t been as startled.

She began to glance about the car, checking for the lights he spoke of. The highway was dark and slick like ice, and the smell of the desert permeated the car. She couldn’t quite pin how she felt.  She wasn’t too panicked; her partner had simply fallen asleep at the wheel. But, it was the song and the desert and the night. Something out in the darkness of the California desert made her rest her hand over her gun.

It was then that she remembered the song title. And that was only because the neon sign in front of the car said it:

_Hotel California_

 

* * *

Mulder woke up in silk sheets. He leaned his head back into the pillows resting beneath him. His toes curled underneath the silk of the sheets, exploring the bed before he opened his eyes.

His vision was happily blurry, softened. But, as his vision sharpened, so did his mind. Mulder saw himself, poised on the ceiling.

But, it wasn’t quite him. This Mulder was drenched in blood, a smirk twisted on his lips. He lay there naked in a bed of blood, sharing it only with the empty and broken body of Dana Scully. Mulder burst out of bed, knowing he could feel the cold of her skin against him.

He glanced down at his bed. Pristine white silk sheets, the bed empty. He snapped his head upwards again, but this time faced only his own, scared reflection.

He started to run, flinging himself out the door and into the corridor. He had to find Scully.

His room had been at the end of the hallway, facing a window. The warm red of the sun lit the hallway, bathing it in a light he could not describe. He only thought of the synthetic pink neon, lightly flickering bar lights he was accustomed to.

There were two other doors in this corridor. He held his gun close to his chest as he silently approached the room. He braced his back against the door, waiting for his breath to quiet. He listened gently, getting his gun ready. As he counted down from three in his head, he  heard his shadow counting with him.

“ _Three_ … _Two_ … _One! Welcome._ “

He burst through the door, desperately searching for Scully.

“Mulder!” Her voice echoed from behind him. He spun quickly around, turning to face the corridor again. She had her gun balanced in her hand, dressed in a satin white robe. Her lips were bright red and her eyes wide and blue and Mulder could only concentrate on the woman in front on of him.

“Mulder, we need to get out of here. As far as I can tell, there isn’t anyone else here, but I think we were drugged somehow. I woke up in this and all my other possessions are gone and…Mulder are you listening to me?”

But, Mulder only saw Scully standing in the doorway. The robe hung off her shoulders, and Mulder couldn’t stop his eyes from following the curve of the satin along her body.

“Mulder, you’re scaring me.” And as soon as he heard those words, Mulder fought against the cloud in his mind. That’s the one thing he never wanted to hear.

He closed his eyes and turned away from Scully.

“You’re right, Scully. Something’s wrong. Let’s get out of here.”  He started forward out of the room, carful to avoid looking at Scully. He didn’t know why she affected him so greatly, but he didn’t trust himself in this place.

They walked carefully, both ready to fire. The only sounds echoing through the halls were the shallow thuds of their bare feet along the carpeted floors.

Except the voices.

They seemed to infiltrate their heads, simple white noise that they had learned to avoid, like the sounds of their own breath. The voices pulled and pushed, swallowing the two deeper into the maze the hotel had become. It was the same thing over and over: “ _Welcome._ ”

The hallway had stretched and spread, never turning and yet the sun outside moved with every window they moved passed.

“Mulder, are you seeing this? Wh- How do we get out of here?” Scully glanced up to Mulder, staring at him with those fucking blue eyes and god.

“I don’t know. Next window we see, I’m breaking out.” He tossed his gun up playfully.

And of course, they never found another window. The hotel wouldn’t let them.

* * *

They chased the voices or maybe the voices chased them. The two walked close together, Mulder all too carful to avoid the white satin against Scully’s skin. And Scully all too carful to meet his gaze, to assess her partner, for the light in his eyes was duller. And, nothing scared her more.

What had felt like hours dripped away at their heels, pushing against a vacuum of time that this hotel had turned into. All the while, that chorus of  _Welcome_  broke through their consciouses. Until it stopped, replaced by just one soft word spoken right behind them.

“Stay.”

The two snapped back around, removing the safeties of their guns. There they stood in a beautiful ballroom. The chandelier light up with rubies, suspended above them. The entire hall was a cool marble, with dark blue veins in the stone. A line of columns rested in front of them and beyond them appeared to be a courtyard.

“I get it.” Mulder breathed quietly.

“What, Mulder?”

“It’s the song. The Eagles song. The one playing last night.”

“You think this is someone trying to recreate the song? Luring in victims and keeping them here?”

“No, Scully, I think this is the real thing. There’s something going on here that I can’t begin to explain beyond the fact that maybe it’s the hotel. Hotel California.”

Their voices echoed across the empty marble hall, the words ‘ _Hotel California_ ’lasting just a second too long.

“Mulder, that’s insane.” Scully replied, attempting to maintain the confidence she should have, “let’s just find a way out of here, okay?”

The two of them walked into the courtyard, the light smell of sunlight and sweat sinking into them. The light fabric of Scully’s robe slid across the cracked mosaic floor of the courtyard, revealing the freckles on her shoulders. Mulder froze. He’d been reviewing the lyrics over and over, wondering where the woman was… the Tiffany-twisted woman.

It occurred to him then that it must be Scully.

 _We are all just prisoners here of our own device._  Every second in this hotel has been occupied by thoughts of her. But, not in the way he normally thinks of her. It wasn’t unusual for Mulder to think about Scully, but this was different. It was pervasive and haunting and as much as she occupied his mind, he couldn’t remove the image of her reflected in the mirror this morning.

“Mulder, I need you to talk to me. What’s going on with you?”  
  


“I think you’re right…about us being drugged. Or something. I’ve just been having multiple auditory and visual hallucinations.”

“So it hasn’t been just me. This morning even, the first thing I saw was you lying next to me dead, Mulder.”

“Funny, I saw the same thing. Anything else..? Have you… has anything else strange gone on?”

“Mulder, if you’re trying to joke, I don’t know how to respond. Everything is strange about this damn place.”

Mulder glanced up into the desert sky, spinning on his heel, estimating time of day and searching for a way out or maybe a way to tell her how he wanted to touch her so badly and he was worried it was the hotel, but he was also worried it wasn’t.

“So, how do we get out of here?” Scully finally broke the silence.

“Well, isn’t that the question? Let’s call up Don Henley and ask him.”

“Hah hah, well I’m glad your snark is back. For a minute there I was scared the hotel really got to you.”

But, it had.

* * *

The only movement was the shadows in front of them; they had taken to laughing and running along the hallways. Sometimes they disappeared altogether, but the most unsettling was when they seemed to never go away.

“It’s about desire, right?” Mulder asked as they continued their exploration of the hotel, hours floating away like minutes.

“The song? I mean, maybe, but to be honest, I always thought it was about consumerism.”

Mulder nearly grinned, “Really? You don’t think it hasanything to do with sex?”

Scully paused, watching her shadow grasp at Mulder’s shadow. She pulled at Mulder’s tie, dragging it slowly and crouching down slowly, pulling herself into Mulder’s shadow.

Scully blinked and moved faster, wishing for whatever was poisoning her system to free her mind. She didn’t know what Mulder was seeing, but she heard his breath hitch.

“No, Mulder, I tend not to relate everything to sex.” She spoke quietly, for she was worried the shadows would hear and prove her wrong.

“Scully, you have to admit that there is something going on here. Hell, can’t you feel it? This whole hotel is a giant aphrodisiac, don’t you remember the ‘ _pretty, pretty boys she calls friends_ ’? Hell, they even say 69 in the song.”

“Yeah, as in the year, Mulder!” Scully turned to face him, scanning his face for the reaction she had grown accustomed to. His eyes would always glance down and he would flush. She would want him and she would hope he wanted her, but there are drugs that increase arousal; it would be no surprise to her if that was what had been clouding her head.

But, the hotel had told her that wasn’t it.

“Whatever, Mulder, I don’t want to talk about the hidden sexual nuances in a song from 1973. I want to get out of here.”

“I know, Scully. I just think the way out is in the song.”

“Mulder, the way out is in finding the person holding us here. This is someone’s construction and frankly, I want answers.” She slid her robe tighter around her waist, pulling at the satin. He noticed.

“Well, I’m open to suggestions.” Mulder walked in front of her as his eyes slid away from her waist and back up to the thousandth hallway they had found. At times it seemed that the hallways seemed to find them.

“Have you been enjoying your stay?” A cool, metallic voice spoke from behind. 

The man had two guns pointed at him and he didn’t even blink.

“Who are you?” Scully yelled.

“I am the night-man. And please let us know if there is anything you require.”

“Yes, we are federal agents and we need to find who is responsible for this.” Scully stepped closer, her finger growing tighter around the trigger. “How do we get out of here?” 

“We are pro-” 

“Let me guess, ‘you can check out anytime you like, but you can never leave.’” Mulder spat back at him, “Listen we want answers. Where is the master’s chambers?”

Scully looked at Mulder with a look of pure disdain, “Mulder, you can’t be serious.” 

“Follow me, please.” And the night-man turned and walked silently down the hall.

“Listen, Scully,” Mulder whispered as they followed suit, “I have an idea. We go to the master’s chambers for the feast, okay, whatever it is.” 

Mulder nearly heard her eyes roll. 

“And what? Stab something?”

“Got anything else?” 

Scully, of course, thought of a thousand things, but Mulder had already approached the night-man again, surveying the man who moved like steel.

Her shadow danced in front of her, the gun in her hand turning into a candle in her palm. Scully had grown tired of trying to read into every hallucination, but this one walked along side the night-man, leading the way into what she could now see as a grand, ornate dining room.

The entire room was composed of mirrors, glass and light. The room was empty except for a long table. The three of them walked in; the night-man pausing at the door, to lock it. 

Scully snapped out her gun, “what are you doing?” 

Mulder walked about the room, stopping at the table, picking up the only thing on it: a knife.

The night-responded cooly: “it is time for the feast.”

The shadows underneath their feet leapt out. The gun flew out of her hand as the cold wind of her shadow thrashed at her. 

Mulder’s shadow flung him across the room, pinning him against the giant mirror, tinging the glass with his blood.

Mulder grasped the knife, attempting to pierce the shadow any way he could. 

The cool wind seemed to the drain the very breath from them. Mulder turned to see Scully lying on the table, wrestling. 

 He heard gun shots and Scully scrambled from the table, rushing to his side. But, he saw the other her, the shadow her grab her from behind. His own breath was being stolen from him and with every thrash of his knife he felt only icy cold against his neck.

 

“We are getting out of here, Scully. I swear to God” He choked out, and it was as he stared at her as he saw her dying that his knife struck flesh. 

A loud resounding crack shook the room. The glass of the mirrors fell from the ceiling, and the knife slipped from Mulder’s hand. 

Scully struggled to stay conscious as the ceiling fell around her. The hollow earth seemed to shake around her, as if to throw her off the planet.  She crawled and pulled against the shadow trying to drag her to what could either be heaven or hell. Her fingers reached the cool of the knife, the knife that had bright red blood she feared was Mulder’s. 

He struggled against the broken glass of a mirror, trying to get up. His eyes met hers as she gripped the knife. Seeing him hurt, she couldn’t stand it. Her anger boiled over, and she slashed the shadow.

Scully saw it, saw herself bleed. This shadow crumpled to the ground, the wound in its heart bleeding light instead of blood. 

The light grew and grew as the room shook, but Scully could only see Mulder. 

She reached for his hand as the world crumbled around them.

* * *

They woke up 75 miles east of their motel. The car had been spotted by a state trooper. The car had no scratches, and neither did the two FBI agents. It was a quiet afternoon, with statements to the Bureau and issue to close the highway until properly searched.

Mulder and Scully arrived to the motel for one last night in California. The motel did not have a pool nor a bar. Mulder owed Scully a beer.

“You haven’t really spoken to me in a while , you know.” Mulder reminded her as she sipped a beer purchased from the gas station.

“I don’t really have much to say, Mulder.”

“Okay, well I do. The song isn’t about consumerism, at least I don’t think it is. It’s about being trapped by desire, having it turn the things you lust after against you. The hotel was trying to accomplish that.”

“Buildings don’t have motives, Mulder. Why are you even mentioning this to me?”

“Because, Scully, I desired you in there. I mean I had thought about you before in that way, but…I guess it scared me because it knew that. The hotel knew it and it used it. It’s in the fucking song…prisoners of your own device.”

Scully had gone completely numb, a heat pooling in her stomach and her tongue feeling heavy in her mouth. 

“Mulder…we were drugged. It’s reasonable to believe that it was j-”

“You think after all we saw that we were drugged?”

“How could you not, Mulder? I just…listen, I felt similarly, but it was just whatever we were exposed to.”

“So, you don’t still feel it?” Mulder’s voice grew low and soft, the way he delivers bad news and Scully couldn’t concentrate on anything except it.

“Feel what?” Scully paused, hoping to hear his words drip from his mouth again; she wanted him to tell her that he lusted after her.

“Desire” the word filled the room and her belly and she knew she couldn’t lie.

“Mulder, seduce me please.” She whispered as her hands slid towards his.

Without any words, he slid his hands from hers towards her back, pulling her closer, digging his fingers into her before their lips had even touched. 

He stared at her then, evaluating her face as if he tried to memorize every cell on her skin. 

“Such a lovely face.” He started to sing, laughing as he kissed her, tugging her hair gently as he pushed and pulled and breathed into her. 

“I hate that song.” She whispered into his mouth as their limbs tangled with each other along the bed.

He felt her fingers spread across his chest, one hand moving towards his zipper. He twirled his long fingers around her breasts, stopping to kiss her from her lips to her nipple. His light touch felt warm and light, drawing a blush to her skin.

He slipped his hand down her front, following the line from her naval down. She twitched to his touch as he began to turn his fingers, moving his hand in time with the tongue at her breast. He followed his fingers, moving down her stomach, every touch another pulse through her.

He had never felt better as he kissed the day light out of her. Every fraction of her he wanted to taste, tugging and playing until he saw her toes curl with delight. 

Desire was a strong word, but he felt more than that. It wasn’t only the pool of desire building in him that pushed him to please her. It was the laugh she made as she came and the sigh she made when she ridiculed one of his ideas. It was all of her, the light hum of her against his cock and her distracted hum as she highlighted files. 

It was just Scully. 

* * *

She kissed him after he came, seeing the dazed happy look in his eye. She still rested on top of him, perched above, splaying her hands across the light sweat of his chest. 

She got up to throw out the condom, dressing herself in the white cotton robe in the motel bathroom. She reached into his pant’s pockets that lay sprawled across the floor, searching for the wrapper. A receipt was crumpled there as well:

 

                   _Hotel California_

_6/17/1994            Check in time 23:53_

_6/18/1994           Check out time 00:00_

_Check out any time you like_

                 

 


End file.
